Oberon Through the house give glimmering light. By the dead and drowsy fire, Every elf and fairy sprite Hop as light as bird from brier, And this ditty after me Sing, and dance it trippingly. Read more about Act 5, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: "as bird from brier"
Oberon Through the house give glimmering light. By the dead and drowsy fire, Every elf and fairy sprite Hop as light as bird from brier, And this ditty after me Sing, and dance it trippingly. Read more about Act 5, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: "glimmering light"
Robin Now the hungry lion roars, And the wolf behowls the moon, Whilst the heavy ploughman snores, All with weary task fordone. Now the wasted brands do glow Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, Puts the wretch that lies in woe In remembrance of a shroud. Now it is the time of night That the graves, all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite In the churchway paths to glide. And we fairies that do run By the triple Hecate's team From the presence of the sun, Following a darkness like a dream, Now are frolic. Not a mouse Shall disturb this hallowed house. I am sent with broom before To sweep the dust behind the door. Read more about Act 5, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: "sprite"
Robin Now the hungry lion roars, And the wolf behowls the moon, Whilst the heavy ploughman snores, All with weary task fordone. Now the wasted brands do glow Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, Puts the wretch that lies in woe In remembrance of a shroud. Now it is the time of night That the graves, all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite In the churchway paths to glide. And we fairies that do run By the triple Hecate's team From the presence of the sun, Following a darkness like a dream, Now are frolic. Not a mouse Shall disturb this hallowed house. I am sent with broom before To sweep the dust behind the door. Read more about Act 5, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: "screech-owl"
Theseus No epilogue, I pray you; for your play needs no excuse. Never excuse, for when the players are all dead there needs none to be blamed. Marry, if he that writ it had played Pyramus and hanged himself in Thisbe's garter, it would have been a fine tragedy; and so it is, truly and very notably discharged. But come, your bergamask. Let your epilogue alone. [Bottom and Flute dance a bergamask, then exit] The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve. Lovers, to bed; 'tis almost fairy time. I fear we shall outsleep the coming morn As much as we this night have overwatched. This palpable-gross play hath well beguiled The heavy gait of night. Sweet friends, to bed. A fortnight hold we this solemnity In nightly revels and new jollity. Read more about Act 5, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: "notably discharged"
